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Fellow Travellers

Saturday, June 02, 2012

Tonight we went to Family Karaoke Box in the Cuppage Plaza. That sounds like a filthy, rotten thing to do, but strangely the Family Karaoke Box in the Cuppage Plaza is one of the least filthy things in that area; or at least it's not a cloud of scantily dressed prostitutes looking for trade.
It's just a labyrinth of rooms full of people singing ineptly, while a bad tempered staff ferry buckets of beer from behind a counter to each gang of singers. While we sat in our room and I belted out Ludacris' rap from Justin Bieber's "Baby" we could only hear the terrible noises emanating from our mouths. When I got up and walked to the toilets (which were signposted by silhouettes of a man and a woman wearing hats) the terrible din, like a Lovecraftian shuggoth powered by music, battered my senses.

Still, we survived intact. Not everyone does. I was running this morning through Clarke Quay and I saw a man lying on some steps next to Brewerks, face down next to a smear of dried vomit, the rest of the vomit across the seat of his pants. At least I hope it was his vomit. Perhaps the poor man had lain down for a nap and somebody else had chucked up all over him.

I was going to shake him awake and check he was ok, but I imagine that if you were to awake, covered in somebody else's vomit, with a man in a nylon vest shaking you, you might get enraged, even if you didn't have a hangover. So rather than be a good Samaritan, I ran on. I hope he's ok. I hope he does his own laundry.

Nobody threw up over themselves or anyone tonight. Well, none of us did, anyway. I shouted myself hoarse ruining an Oasis song or two, and we drank some beer, but there was no puking. I put my neck out singing too hard, but hopefully a good night's sleep will cure that and I can work on my cockroach material tomorrow.

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I've written a novel. If you like romantic comedies, or kebabs, or people who think they're much cleverer than they really are, or confounded expectations, or abuse of punctuation ... then you might like Diet Croydon.